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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29280831">Sweetheart Deal</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (Movies - Muschietti)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Hand Jobs, Infidelity, M/M, Past Underage Sex, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Post-Break Up</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:42:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,457</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29280831</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Consider it… military rules, you know? Guys sleep with each other—call it ‘situational homosexuality’—‘cause they’re gonna die anyway, so it doesn’t matter if they’ve got wives back home.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>96</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Clowntown Kink Meme 2021</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sweetheart Deal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">



        <li>In response to a prompt by
            Anonymous in the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/clowntown2021">clowntown2021</a>
          collection.
        </li>
    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <strong>Prompt:</strong>
</p><p>Eddie and Richie dated as teenagers but broke up before leaving Derry (can be any reason, up to you if it was a rough break up or more of an angsty "forbidden love" thing). When they remember the fact at some point during the Jade of the Orient dinner, everything turns incredibly awkward for all of the Losers, either because Eddie and Richie start acting like cat and dog or because of the clear pining/attraction still present (up to you if it's one sided or not).</p><p>Optional: they hook up (hate sex, reconciliation sex, etc.) and/or give their relationship another shot</p><p>I like to ignore canon so please keep Eddie alive, but if it's your cup of tea you can have him go back to Myra (if he's married)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eddie found him in the bathroom.</p><p>He took the urinal one over, which seemed like a really fucking weird choice, but whatever.</p><p>“Eddie Kaspbrak uses public bathrooms now.” Richie nodded at him. “Proud of you.”</p><p>Eddie scoffed, unzipping his fly. Richie’s eyes tracked the movement; he had time to process that Eddie was wearing briefs before his brain caught up to him, looking away.</p><p>The walls were bright red, took Richie back to every birthday, every middle school graduation that they’d had in this town. Why drive out to Bangor when there was a perfectly nice, token ethnic restaurant right there in Derry? Richie could taste the egg rolls he’d puked up his last Christmas in Derry, looking at the tile.</p><p>“Richie?”</p><p>Eddie was staring at him, eyebrows drawn. Richie had his body turned as far away as possible, eyes <em>up here</em>.</p><p>“Richie.” Eddie laughed uneasily, shoulders tight. “Come on, man, why are you being weird? We… it’s not like we haven’t seen each other’s dicks, like, a million times.”</p><p>Richie blinked at him slowly. Was this a bit?</p><p>The hurt in Eddie’s voice was plain when he said, “You don’t remember?”</p><p>Richie remembered the Kissing Bridge. He snuck The Cure onto mixtapes and clung to Eddie’s bony shoulders in the quarry. He watched Eddie dance with Dana Lewes at the school formal, Stan checking on him on what Richie suspected was a timed schedule. He watched Eddie storm out of his bedroom, straining in his jeans because—</p><p>Because they had been fooling around, Eddie grinding against his cock through the fabric, when Richie had said something so stupid that Eddie had grabbed his backpack and left. They’d been fine, Eddie had let Richie suck him off the next week.</p><p>Richie hadn’t been able to get off, himself; he’d spent all week thinking that Eddie hated him, was never going to talk to him again. He had Eddie Kaspbrak’s cock in his mouth and he couldn’t stop thinking, <em>He left me once. He could do it again.</em></p><p>Eddie zipped his fly, his ring glinting in the bathroom light.</p><p>Richie opened his mouth, and someone opened the door.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>For the rest of dinner, Richie couldn’t get drunk enough. Eddie had opened the floodgates, and Richie’s brain was running through All the Hook-ups With Your Childhood Crush That You Forgot. Eddie’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, and Richie remembered the time that Eddie had refused to pull off, Richie tugging at his hair in warning. Stupid, fucking Bill proposed an arm wrestling match, and Richie felt himself pushing Eddie down on his twin-size bed, his knee pressing between Eddie’s thighs.</p><p>When Richie did manage to look away, he’d turn back to find Eddie glaring at him. Richie shrugged his shoulders, <em>What do you want me to do here?</em> and Eddie flicked his chopsticks at him and the check didn’t come fast enough.</p><p>Richie was doomscrolling through Twitter when Eddie barged into his room.</p><p>“Uh, dude.” Richie was laying back on his bed, his I’M A DELICATE FUCKING FLOWER socks propped up on the comforter. “I could’ve had, like, Ben in here.”</p><p>Eddie’s face got all twisted, unamused. “What, were you sleeping with Ben, too?”</p><p>Richie swallowed past the lump in his throat, pushing up from the bed. “Just you,” he said quietly.</p><p>He crossed the room, and Eddie thunked him on the chest. “Why the fuck didn’t you remember, then?”</p><p>“Uh.” Eddie was uncomfortably close; Richie could smell his aftershave. “We <em>all</em> forgot that shit. I didn’t remember the name of our high school until, like, ten minutes ago.”</p><p>Eddie shook his head and began to pace. It might’ve been funny if Richie hadn’t been so fucking terrified in that moment. <em>Why does he care so much?</em> Eddie still had the ring on and there was no answer that Richie particularly liked.</p><p>Eddie met Richie’s eyes, and something in him seemed to break, eyes going soft. “When you saw me,” he said. “Why didn’t you remember when you saw me?”</p><p>Richie’s mouth hung open stupidly. The first thing that Eddie had remembered when he saw Richie was that they used to fuck, but the stupid thing, the really fucking embarrassing thing, was that all Richie could think was, <em>Eddie is sad. I made him sad. How do I make him not sad?</em></p><p>“Eddie,” he said helplessly, “I’m—”</p><p>Eddie groaned, and Richie barely had time to think before he was being shoved bodily against the wall, Eddie licking into his mouth. Richie groped blindly for something to hold onto, grabbing at Eddie’s shirt, and Eddie shoved a leg between his thighs, grinding up against him.</p><p>“Uh.”</p><p>Richie’s head was spinning, the room seeming to disappear before him as Eddie bit at the stubble on his jaw, trailed down his neck.</p><p>“Do you remember now?” Eddie’s breath was warm on his neck. He cupped Richie through his pants and Richie groaned, bucking into his hand.</p><p>“Eddie.”</p><p>Eddie unzipped Richie’s pants, pulled down his stupid pineapple boxers.</p><p>“Eddie, I—”</p><p>“Tell me.” Eddie spit into his hand, and Richie thought about his germ thing, and Richie thought that this was maybe the hottest thing that had ever happened to him. Eddie took his cock into his hand and Richie’s head fell back against the wall. “Tell me what you remember, Richie.”</p><p>Eddie squeezed lightly at his cock—teasing, really. Richie panted, feeling like a fucking teenager for getting turned on so fast, which was appropriate, really. He tried to angle his hips, fuck into Eddie’s hand, but Eddie held him flush against the wall.</p><p>“I—this,” Richie panted. “You let me jerk you off the first time, just like this. We’d been wrestling, and I… I could feel you.”</p><p>Eddie began to pump Richie’s cock in his hand, agonizingly slow. Richie whined. “Yeah?” Eddie breathed against his neck, a smirk in his voice. “Just like this?”</p><p>“Faster,” Richie groaned.</p><p>Eddie sped up his movements, but only slightly. He pressed a kiss to Richie’s shoulder; gentle, not what he needed at all. “You that desperate for it, Rich?”</p><p>Richie huffed. He dug his nails into Eddie’s back, tried to push up his shirt. Richie wanted everything; Richie wanted to see him, wanted to be stretched out on the bed and fucked instead of standing uncomfortably against a fucking wall. Eddie pulled Richie’s hand away from his shirt.</p><p>“Yeah. Yeah, I was desperate for it. I jerked off to you for years. I would’ve—I would’ve paid you to let me do it to you, I wanted it so bad.”</p><p>Eddie moaned, shifting positions, and started jerking Richie off in earnest. He could have cried in relief. Eddie tugged Richie’s collar down, sucking a spot into his shoulder.</p><p>“Keep talking.”</p><p>Richie grinned, couldn’t help himself. “Oh, you like it when I talk?”</p><p>Eddie’s nail scraped against his cock, just briefly, and Richie gasped. He put his hands on Eddie’s shoulders for balance. “I—I would’ve let you do anything to me. I fucking loved it, Eddie, I loved—” Richie panted, the combination of Eddie’s touch and Eddie’s short breaths loosening his tongue. “I loved your taste. Your thighs would clench around me and you’d—you’d bury your face in my pillow, when you came. I’d yell at my mom if she tried to wash it, before I knew you were gonna come over again.”</p><p>Eddie hummed, but Richie could feel he was fully hard now, his pant leg wet against Richie’s thigh. “You forgot me.” Eddie’s voice was strained, breathy. “You left me. You forgot.”</p><p>If Richie was thinking clearly, he would have thought that this was a pretty unfair accusation, especially since Eddie had moved away first, had gotten married. Instead, Richie made a pained noise and leaned his forehead against Eddie’s.</p><p>“I still wanted you. Everyone—” Richie shut his eyes, remembering a series of short, dark-haired men. Always closeted men he could trust to blow him off. “Everyone I slept with, I think I was trying to get back to you. I just—I wanted—”</p><p>“Shh.” Eddie gripped the back of his neck with his free hand, almost petting. Richie was gone, panting into his mouth. “You have me. I’m right here, Rich. I never—”</p><p>Eddie broke off, shifting, instead, to kiss Richie hard on the mouth. Richie moaned against it.</p><p>“Eddie—”</p><p>“Yeah, that’s it, come on, Rich, I want to see you come for me.”</p><p>Eddie kissed him again, squeezing hard at his cock, and Richie fell forward, gasping against Eddie’s neck. Eddie worked him through it, murmuring into his hair.</p><p>In his post-orgasm haze, Richie kissed sloppily up Eddie’s throat, along his jaw. Eddie keened, going slack beneath him. Richie pressed a hand between them, fumbling for Eddie’s zipper, and Eddie leapt back.</p><p>Eddie was visibly hard and panting. “I should,” he said. “I should get back to my room. I—Myra—”</p><p>Richie laughed, incredulous; his breath was still catching up to him. “What, it’s—” Eddie was several feet away from him now, the room once again in full view. They were in the Derry Townhouse, which probably hadn't been cleaned since they'd left Derry, and Eddie had a wife and a bed back in New York, had a life that had nothing to do with Richie. "It's not cheating if you jerk me off, but it's cheating if I jerk you off?"</p><p>“I shouldn’t even be here,” Eddie said, frantic all of a sudden. He lifted his hand as if to wipe his mouth, then seemed to remember that Richie’s come was still on it. “I’m married, Richie. This is—<em>fuck</em>.”</p><p>Eddie made for the bedside table, wiping his hand with a tissue.</p><p>Richie let Eddie have his distance, scratched at his neck. “You should really wash that, you know?”</p><p>Eddie scowled at him.</p><p>Richie began to zip his pants up, began to accept that this was over. Eddie rubbed his forehead, sighing against the wall. “I’m a terrible fucking person.”</p><p>“Eddie.” Richie felt like his heart had broken at least three different ways in one day. Was that a normal feeling, when you returned home? “Eddie, no.”</p><p>Eddie shook his head. “I’ve been gone—what, less than twenty-four hours? <em>Tiger Woods</em> waited longer to cheat on his wife.”</p><p>“That’s your go-to celebrity reference?” Richie crossed the room, plopping down in front of Eddie. “You’re fine. You know, I bet five bucks Bev and Bill are doing the same thing. And that’s all the money I have in my wallet.”</p><p>“That doesn’t make it <em>okay</em>, Richie.”</p><p>Richie leaned back on his bed. Eddie looked—haggard. Eddie had been in a car accident that day and driven seven hours. Eddie wasn’t leaving his room; was standing in front of Richie, hating himself.</p><p>“What are our odds here, anyway?” Richie asked conversationally. “The six of us, tomorrow.”</p><p>Eddie made an indignant noise. “What, you’re—you’re asking me to take fucking bets on our survival?”</p><p>“Guess so,” Richie shrugged. “You’re a risk analyst. You wager on people’s deaths for a living, right?”</p><p>“That’s not what a fucking risk analyst is, Richie.”</p><p>“There are six of us.” Eddie opened his mouth again and Richie held a hand up. “Probably, like, thousands of people have died at Pennywise's hands before. I'm just saying, what are the odds of all of us surviving and making it back to our wives?”</p><p>Eddie shifted from foot to foot, considering. “We beat Pennywise before.”</p><p>Richie swallowed past the sickness building in his gut, waved Eddie off. “We were stronger then. We just got a shit-ton of traumatic memories back <em>and</em> we’re probably gonna be sleep deprived. Consider it… military rules, you know? Guys sleep with each other—call it ‘situational homosexuality’—‘cause they’re gonna die anyway, so it doesn’t matter if they’ve got wives back home.”</p><p>Eddie chewed on the inside of his cheek. He was staring so hard that Richie’s face was burning with it. “Richie.”</p><p>“Maybe you don’t die,” Richie offered, because he was starting to ruin the mood for himself. Eddie took Richie’s hand in his. Sympathetically, Richie thought. Platonic. “Maybe you just get injured, you know, and she divorces you anyway.”</p><p>Eddie moved forward, stepping between Richie’s legs. “We did fight.” Richie moved his hand up Eddie’s arm, cupping his cheek. Eddie leaned into his touch. “Right before I came here, we fought on the phone.”</p><p>“Have you called her?” Eddie tilted forward, pressing his forehead against Richie’s. “Since you’ve gotten here.”</p><p>“I haven’t even texted her,” Eddie laughed. It seemed like the most romantic sound that Richie had ever heard. Richie slid his hand down to Eddie’s neck, and he sighed.</p><p>“Maybe she thinks it’s over anyway.”</p><p>Eddie was staring at his lips. “Yeah,” he said, and Richie sort of wanted to know what that meant, if that meant that it was actually over, but before he could ask, Eddie surged forward, kissing him thoroughly.</p><p>Richie wrapped both hands around Eddie’s neck and Eddie pushed him down on the bed, climbing on top of him.</p><p>Eddie’s still-hard cock pressed against Richie’s thigh, and Richie turned feverish; kissing, open-mouthed, at Eddie’s jaw, grabbing at his ass. Eddie moaned, rutting against him.</p><p>“Tell me what you want.”</p><p>He tugged at Eddie’s waistband and Eddie lifted his hips, helping Richie get his pants off.</p><p>He fell against Richie, naked but for his briefs. “Touch me. I want you to touch me.”</p><p>Eddie didn’t last long. Richie flipped them over, pulled down Eddie's briefs, and jerked him off while Eddie gasped Richie’s name against his throat.</p><p>“You can stay here tonight.” They were lying side by side, Richie kissing lazily at Eddie’s shoulder. “If you want.”</p><p>Eddie’s eyes were closed, his hand in Richie’s. The buttons on his shirt were undone, chest hair peeking out. It was the most peaceful Richie had seen him since he’d arrived.</p><p>“I don’t want the others…”</p><p>Richie licked a stripe behind Eddie’s ear. “Early morning sneakout?”</p><p>He was being clingy, he knew. <em>What are our odds here, anyway—the six of us, tomorrow?</em></p><p>Eddie turned to face Richie. He felt teased out, unable to hide the want on his face. Eddie pushed up from the bed.</p><p>Richie sat back on his elbows, watched Eddie get dressed. “Uh. Sorry.”</p><p>“It’s okay,” Richie said immediately, though he didn’t know what Eddie was apologizing for, exactly.</p><p>Eddie stopped at the door. Richie wanted to retrace his steps, find his fault. Eddie had wanted this, hadn’t he? Had initiated it himself? “I’ll—I’ll see you tomorrow?”</p><p>Richie smiled weakly. “Got nowhere else to be.”</p><p>This wasn’t actually true and he had the voicemails from Steve to prove it, but it seemed to satisfy Eddie. He shut the door behind him, and Richie was alone again.</p>
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